Backslash
by FlightOrFight
Summary: Phoenix!Harry is wandering around an unknown world enjoying himself in his new form while trying to discover what the magic that resides within the earth has to offer. Trouble's always been a constant in his life but he hopes being away from humanity (as much as he can) will help with that. He's not that hopeful, but the lack of opposable thumbs won't stop him from trying. Drabble
1. Chapter 1

**Backlash**

 **Chapter 1**

I

Far away from the ground, where the winds are harsher and the sun is strong, a bird from legends flies. The cold temperature of the air doesn't bother him as scorching fire always resides inside him, warming him from his talons to the tip of his wings. It's nice though he admits it's easier to ride the warm thermals of summer, less need to flap one's wings and grow tired, but the workout is still appreciated.

Perhaps he would go next to a more tropical place where thermals, those bubbles of hot air that help flying, are more common. He kind of misses billowing up effortlessly, soaring up higher and higher with just a couple flaps, until he's above the clouds and can relax and float away, free.

A thud interrupts his musings and he searches for the bird he's been following. He finds it a second later, as his sight is more than perfect in this form, with its wings pressed to its back, head low and talons tucked back, falling down like a seeker who's found the snitch. Then, with the grace only birds of prey have, it opens its wings and picks the dead animal up from the ground, soaring up once again to repeat the action.

Harry calls him Marcus in his mind as it kind of reminds him of Slytherin's captain, Marcus Flint, and what he would consider funny.

Well, it _is_ actually kind of funny to see bird-Marcus picking the animal up to just throw it again and again. This is the third time he's seen it do it, but his amusement hasn't diminished since then. It actually makes up for missing the hawk he was following earlier and lost its tracks thanks to the surprise of watching a dead body falling a couple steps away from him.

He would have gone closer after that if only to inspect the bird-Marcus better. Animals kind of worship him now (or at least threat him with respect), so he isn't afraid of annoying them or them attacking him.

That being said, this is one of the largest birds he's seen. His wingspan is larger than the length of his human body. It can probably fit two Harry's, actually.

He's not intimidated, not really. But he can't deny that seeing a large bird carry a big wolf just to drop it, creates certain measure of caution. His phoenix form is not big even if his wingspan does have a respectful length.

The fourth time seems to be the charm. Bird-Marcus once again goes down, but this time it doesn't pick up the body. It begins tearing the pelt away to reach the flesh with its beak with a disturbing ease. The blood stains the white ground and its brownish chest, but its wings, black with a couple gray feathers, remain pristine.

It's kind of beautiful to see it. Deadly and terrifying, but still beautiful in an almost candid way.

II

Harry never finished his normal schooling as he went to Hogwarts when he was just eleven years old. That means there's a lot of things he doesn't know most people would call obvious and has a lot of information some would call useless. Well, it is kind of useless, now. There's no magical society here.

Though it doesn't mean there's no magic. It's weak and can be felt better if one touches the ground, tightly pressed inside the Earth, as if it's trying to restore its energy, curled up as it is. It can be found in the air, too, but fainter.

So, while there's not enough magic in the air for people with an actual magical core to exist, there's enough for some magical creatures to be born. The people instead have the same secondary sort of magical core intricately connected to their souls, which muggles and wizards also had from what he's sensed, just not as strong. There are a couple magical plants too, so some of his knowledge of herbology and care of magical creatures is still usable, which is nice when dealing with the dangerous ones.

Not that he really needs it. He's probably one of the strongest magical creatures out there. At least one of the most respected if he doesn't count unicorns. Or he would be if he was really a phoenix and not just an animagus. Though taking into account he's been in his phoenix form for close to three years without turning back, maybe he does count as one.

He's fallen to the instinct of the phoenix and let it take it over his mind. He no longer feels does phantom aches in which the nose he doesn't have itches or he wants to curls his non-existent fingers. He's more of a bird than human. And considering phoenix are known as intelligent creatures, maybe he's smarter, too. He feels smarter.

Harry blinks when he feels clear eyes settling on him. Bird-Marcus is now edging some piece of meat towards his direction with its beak before straightening. They lock stares for a minute longer and with some sort of dread he realizes bird-Marcus won't eat until Harry has had the first bite.

Fantastic.

Phoenix may be herbivores, but thanks to him being an animagus, he can eat meat and more, too. There's no excuse for him to deny it when is Bird-Marcus the one acknowledging Harry's worth by offering a part of its hunt. It'd be of bad taste to overlook it when he knows how apprehensive birds of prey are when other animals are close. Also, Harry's kind of pushover when he's a phoenix.

With a small sigh he's still capable of doing even with a beak, Harry flies to the bird's side, faintly admitting bird-Marcus is even more intimidating up close. He then bows his head if only to be polite and eats the raw flesh.

He mentally hums as he feels the blood still warm on his tongue, just now noticing bird-Marcus is actually a female bird.

Oh well.

-III

It isn't his intention to follow bird-Marcus to her nest. He's simply curious where she's taking what's left of the dead wolf's body. In his mind, her nest is filled with the bones of her victims instead of the plain sticks most birds prefer. She's clearly made an impression already. If it's a good one or not, he's not really sure.

So he follows her, sometimes even plain apparition instead of flying as he always feels kind of lazy after eating some raw meat. He's also fairly sure it's close to winter and the afternoons in Russia get kind of cold. He may have fire in his veins but he likes being warm. Apparition helps with that as he has to burn to do it and the fire spreads all over his body. Not that he does it many times. While her nest is not close by human standards, it only takes them fifteen minutes of flying before they reach a rocky mountain. There are a couple hole-like spaces between rocks that are clearly nests. In one of them, bird-Marcus flies in.

And well, he certainly isn't expecting the two little chicks he sees. They're cute in a potato kind of way, especially when bird-Marcus feeds them. He stays with them until the sky darkens, the only thing illuminating them being his burning tail and the stars above them. Harry then closes his eyes, talons digging into the soil as he feels the hum of magic beneath him. For a moment he can feel the Earth slowly moving, the trees above the cliff and the breathing of the animals taking refuge near. He lets the phoenix inside him take absolute control until he can feel the life within the world, falling into a slumber as the winter approaches—all things he could have never experienced as a human.

The winds picks up and he starts singing, wishing every animal that hears him encouragement for the hard hunts that will come when the snow falls, uncaring of the noise the breeze rustling through the yellowish leaves that haven't fallen yet makes.

Other animals come close to hear him and Harry flies to the ground, igniting the fire on his tail to not only serve as a light, but to actually produce heat and warm the ones that came to hear him. Not a moment later, small creatures with four spundly legs and giant flat feet come out from a smoky hole on the bottom of the mountain, their smooth, pale gray skin shining in the dark. Bulging round eyes turn to look at him, but it's brief and soon they're dancing.

He won't know they're Mooncalves until it's midnight and most animals are sleeping around him, when he takes out one of the books about magical creatures that are inside the small pouch he keeps hanging around his neck, his burning tail giving him enough light to be able to read.

IV—T

Harry would never forget the first time he became a phoenix.

The battle had been over for over a month but everyone was still twitchy thanks to Voldemort's most loyal followers causing mayhem. For the non-adults meant that while Hogwarts study period was done for the year, students still resided there. Including Harry and his friends.

Though they were the best informed of all thanks to being members of the Order of the Phoenix. Everyone was completely certain they would get pulled into the thick of it as soon as they left the safety of the school so the Order didn't bother in hiding.

There were no formal classes around as no one could focus, but that didn't mean there were none. Offensive and defensive spells were a favorite of everyone, followed by magic healing, including potions and charms. The library was always opened for anyone who wanted to broaden their knowledge too, thing that was a appreciated by the ones who still wanted to pass their OWLs and NEWTs.

Even with those classes going on, plus the political lessons McGonagall gave him every night, Harry had too much free time for his liking. The nightmares didn't give him enough sleep and when he was awake the weight on his shoulders was more evident with the way everyone looked up at him. And he knew it would only become worse.

His friends decided they would spend the time trying to become animagi, to take his mind out of things and because being able to turn into an animal sounded practical, especially when one wanted to escape. They spent months doing all the weird ritual that were needed while using their free time for meditation. The month they had to hold the leaf of a mandrake in their mouth for a month was hard, but in the end it all pay off.

Hermione was an otter, small but very nimble, while Ron turned into a Jack Russell, a canine like Sirius. They kinda expected him to become a stag, as their forms had seem to be based of their patronus.

But that didn't happen.

Instead of the usual smooth transition as he concentrated in that shadow that was his inner animal, fire licked his form in a quick burst. His insides burned in a comforting way as the ashes of what he once was fell to the ground. His senses heightened, everything became clear.

For some reason the memory of the first time he used a broomstick came to him. He remembered clearly the sensation of weightless and the wind soaring across his cheeks, brushing his hair and making it more untamable than ever—He remembered the freedom. Everything was beautiful and he loved it.

Before opening his eyes and hearing his friend's gasps he already knew what his animagus form was.

The phoenix inside him sang to loud for him to ignore.

(Another memory pushed to the forefront of his mind, but Harry ignored it. The morning in which he woke up with the unbroken Elder wand and the Resurrection ring next to his Cloak wasn't something he wished to acknowledge.

It was a secret he intended taking to his grave.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

V

It sometimes annoys him that his animagus form is a magical bird. Yeah, they can fly, have an amazing sight, able to pinpoint with great accuracy things that are several hundred feet away, their hearing is nothing to scoff at, either. And that's without counting their amazing magical senses.

In the end, it makes it hard to ignore things.

Case in point, he's high up in the sky and still can hear people talking down on the ground, which is too close for his comfort as he hasn't had any contact with humans since he decided to live as a phoenix. Some kind of kneejerk reaction makes him take the convenient warm updraft that will take him higher and away.

However before he's gained enough distance he hears they're in trouble.

Obviously he can't really understand the language even if he gets it's Chinese. He gets what's happening and that's the crucial thing. He hovers on top of the wonderful thermal for a moment, thinking about how much he hates his hero-complex. Then with a mental sigh, he flies towards the ground, briefly enjoying the wind across his face until he's a nice distance away to not be seen but still close enough to get a better understanding in what's going on.

He sees first a woman with Asian features and clothes walking around a clearing, searching for who knows what as she talks aloud, limbs trembling slightly and movements frantic. A bag is close to what looks like an uneven hole in the ground where a calm male voice is coming from.

Before he can think twice, he flaps his wings and goes down the hole. He lifts up the person outside, being as careful as possible of any wounds he may have. The woman's open mouth closes when he settles on a branch near and she runs to the man's side to check up on him. He doesn't know their relationship but it's clear they're not close even if the woman looks at the man as if he were the light at the end of a tunnel, which is weird. Both talk quickly, but it's clear their attention is focused on him. It irks him but he doesn't go away as he inspects them from their clothes to the big bag next to the woman. Their exhausted faces and wariness tell him they're not here to hike.

He blinks when the woman finishes bandaging the guy and starts mumbling as she looks inside her backpack. She asks something from the other, which is quickly answered and makes the guy stop looking at him in awe. However, by the looks of it, it isn't what she wanted to hear. Distress slowly settles on her frame.

By the gesturing going on, he gets that there's something left inside the hole. Harry sighs but goes to retrieve the brown bag. They're clearly surprised, but Harry just wants to leave them without feeling guilty and worried.

… He really wants to stop feeling responsible all the time about other's wellbeing.

With a shake of his head, he steels his resolve and flies away.

-VI

Unsurprisingly, it doesn't end like that.

His plans of leaving the continent have been halted with the excuse of searching for new magical creatures, all his trips suspiciously close to China. Every time he's able to go farther, true, but too often he manages to fly above certain pair and see their progress.

Harry may try to deny it but the signs are all there: he's a pushover. And in his work to refute this, he's regressed into his younger reckless years, which may have amplified his trouble-magnet. There's no other explanation as to why he's currently surrounded by Acromantulas, a distance away of what's he's sure is their nest.

In his defense, he's not actually sure how it happened. He was trying to follow a Demiguise, a monkey-looking creature with the ability to disappear at will, as he's been curious about them since he found out their hair is the one used to make Invisible Cloaks. He took stumbling across one as a sign of luck. Unfortunately, it was a young one, who seemed to be more interested in annoying him.

And what better way to do it than by making Harry chase him around?

He should have retreated instead of going along with the little one's whims, but Harry has never claimed being wise. Now he has to suck up and wait to see what they want from him. His experiences with the giant spiders is distressing at best and being now treated like some sort of 'honored guest' honestly weirds him out. He really wants to apparate away but he's intrigued to know what that indigo smoke that hid their nest was. He's never seen anything like it before.

One moment he's trying to find the little Demiguise; the next one, it's like he's walked through an invisible curtain and he can suddenly see the spider webs covering the trees.

After that the Acromantulas weren't slow to arrive. It was only his phoenix pride the one keeping him from bolting out of there. He, still feeling apprehension in their presence, crooned a melody, hoping the famous song his animagus form is known for could be enough to put him in their good graces.

 _And it's worked a little too well_ , he thinks as he hears the telltale sound of multiple legs walking across the web. He can see a shadow approaching the entrance, darkening everything near. Not a moment later, a big spider comes out, less than half the size of Azaroth but no less frightening.

 _'Can you speak?'_ Harry asks, mentally.

He can, which is good, but only Chinese. Harry could read his mind but he needs touch for it to work and that's a big _no_. To not offend them he broadcasts his thoughts to let them known of this. Then does the same to introduce himself as 'Harry' before asking for his.

"jhskfjgds," the only speaker says, before motioning him to follow.

Strangely he doesn't feel any dread at that. He's actually looking forward to what he will be shown. After all, the air is practically vibrating with magic.

-VII

"Harry?" Jianzhu says, attempting to regain his attention from where he's playfully chasing a couple of Snidgets. Harry honestly wants to ignore him as it's always been a dream of his to play with a Snidget since he found out they were what Quidditch players used before the Snitch was invented. With their round bodies, golden plumage and flight ability is obvious they were made with the little bird in mind. Their long, thin beak and jewel-like red eyes the only clear differences between them.

One flies close to his beak before going to his back in the next moment. It makes him turn and note the second acromantula next to his guide. They're talking but it still sounds like gibberish to him.

He really needs to learn the language if he wants to get some answers about how this place came to be and if there are more like it in other countries. That indigo smoke is a clue, it's what hides them, and he knows it. Does that mean there is a magical secret society? He's not sure, but there's at least something hiding magical creatures from normal people and he wants to know what.

Luckily, he has a couple of Language-Lozenges candies inside his pouch. The downside is that he needs to be a human for them to work and spend some time around people who speak the language he wants to learn. He could try look for other methods in the books he has but the lack of fingers made it hard for him to do any research. He can levitate page by page as he does when he wants to look for a new magical creature, but it's tiring and hard to do.

Great.

Using his clear distraction to their advantage, the Snidgets come flying to him like a rain of arrows. While he could easily shrug them off, Harry doesn't and pretends to fall to the ground and take the little birds down with him. They're quick to escape, but Harry is quicker. A hair away before his form can touch the ground, he apparates a small distance away from the Acromantulas, one of his long feathers brushing their legs.

They want him to leave, it's what he gets from their surfacing thoughts. He may be magical like them, but he's still an outsider.

 _'Can I return?_ ' he tries to ask, but he doesn't understand their answers.

He's never felt this impotent.

With a final goodbye to the Snidgets, Harry leaves. He flies above the human pair he helped, notices they're now using a car and settles on their roof. If they're surprised, he ignores it, choosing to look down at his golden talons, the long tail trailing behind, black instead of the usual red, with only a couple golden feathers to give them some color. There are two large slightly green ones coming from it that he can move like tentacles. He curls them around himself, redirecting his gaze to his wings, also dark with gold highlights, and thinks of his human form—his wingless form—, unable to feel magic as well as the phoenix in him can do.

He sings a sad tune.

-VIII-T

When he killed Voldemort and the political pressure on him grew, he no longer had the time however. Between assisting funerals, trials and charity's balls to gain some money for restauration—Harry was always busy.

His friends were always behind, trying to help, but they were moving on, too. The war was something they were putting behind, trying to make the best they could from a tragedy. He respected them for that as he also wanted to do the same, but couldn't. Magical Britain didn't let him move one. He was their Savior, a vestige from the war, something look so they could remember what could have happened.

He couldn't deny being bitter, but he couldn't blame them either. If looking at him, helped them move forward, away from the purist ideals, then he was… Well, not okay. But at least not resentful.

"I can't keep waiting, Harry," Ginny once told him after a boring reunion with some members of the Wizengamot and other high ranking figures. "This is not what I want my future to be."

"You want to try for that position as a chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, right?"

"I do," she said, not surprised he knew. She sat next to him on the sofa they bought, inside the apartment they moved a year ago. Her soft, warm eyes were all, _"Let's go together",_ while the tight line of her lips seemed to say, _"Let's find ourselves and move on."_

But… he couldn't. Only three years had passed since the war and the status quo was still a fragile thing. If he left to do what he wanted, he knew that while there would be unrest for a while, life would still go on. It would take them some time, but Magical Britain would still prosper.

And that was the problem, wasn't it? It _would_ take them longer and in that time people and magical creatures alike would continue to suffer. His popularity was still high and there was so much good he could do with it. He couldn't just leave.

If he asked Ginny to wait for him, she might do it and put him above her future to help him, but it wouldn't be fair for her. For either of them.

So he shook his head.

She didn't sigh exasperated like Ron would have done or told him how it wasn't healthy for him like Hermione would have. She took his hand with a sad smile and asked him if he wanted to fly together instead.

And in that moment he couldn't have loved her more.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

-IX

 _'When have I become a coward?_ ' he think aloud as he watches the snow fall. _'I'm a Griffindor but I've been running away for so long.'_

Bird-Marcus doesn't answer as she's a bird, but her chicks chirp at him from where they're under her mother. He can barely see their heads, but he doesn't make his tail warmer. He doesn't want them to get used to it and then suffer when he's gone. It'll be hard enough with the lack of food to hunt now that winter is upon them.

Maybe he can visit more frequently between his trips to Asia. At least until the chicks can fly. He can use that time to research about Disillusionment charms to see if there's something about the indigo smoke. He'll try to visit some Chinese city to learn the language in his human form after he knows where that pair is going to. When they settle down in some place and he knows their language, he can ask them about their country and if they know about any weird creatures. They're now close to the sea, so it won't be long.

In the meantime he can enjoy his time with bird-Marcus and her neighbors.

Which seems to be a good idea as not a week later, he has a great view of some type of weird machine flying up and up in the sky, until it's nothing but a spot he can't see. A great accomplishment considering he has phoenix's eyes.

It's not a plane, of that's he's sure. He could barely distinguish some parts of the dot, but he remembers enough to know that what he saw is not something as simple He also has enough knowledge in muggle history to know that is around this time muggles started trying to go to space.

For all the traveling he's been doing the last years, he's never seen a spatial station. It's his fault as he's been trying to be as far away from humanity since he came into this world, true. Maybe is time to change that. It's been years, after all. He knows spatial stations are packed with people to make it run and if he's going to a city soon, he should start preparing himself by increasing his time around large amounts of people.

He doesn't think he'll still be skittish as he was those first days coming here. Stalking those two has helped him to be around their weird sort of magical core that like to approach him a little too much for his liking, too. There isn't anyone who knows him either, which makes him feel better even if it pains him to admit it.

Still.

If he were a human, he knows he would be having an anxiety attack or be in the first stages of one. As he's currently not one, he sings and lets the song of his own making calm him down.

-X

In the end, it's curiosity the one making the final decision of apparate as near as he can get to the place the thing came from without being seen, which is the smart thing to do as it only takes him a second after he's reached his destination to notice the great amount of people in the place. Most a considerable length away from some metal thing he's fairly sure is where the ship went off, but there are a couple few who seem busy going from place to place.

And he can sense them all.

It's weird, to be honest. A phoenix has better magical senses than most creatures so since the first time he was able to transform into one he's been able to get faint impressions of a wizard's magical core. On the other hand, that should have meant muggles were outside his view as they don't possess magic. The reality was different, of course, as he found out muggles did have some sort of magical core, smaller than a squib's. He wasn't sure what it was. He only knew some had similar flavors, seemed to be intricately connected with their souls, and liked to go near him.

Unsurprisingly, Hermione had a field day when he told her about it. She spent months investigating about it and nagging him to give all the descriptions he could about it. However he was gone before seeing the results of her research.

They learned wizards have this power too, which is interesting. That being said, is _more_ interesting to find out that while everyone here in this world have that sort of magical core too, theirs is stronger. Again, not enough to ever wield magic, but unlike muggles, and most wizards, they've a potential to ignite… _something._

It disturbed him those first days, as it feels like soul magic, and added to the reasons of why he decided to live as a phoenix. So he doesn't know what as it is small and he doesn't want to get closer to it, but there are some people with larger cores who make a curious tingle go inside him that doesn't feel as awful.

That's why he can't help but trail his gaze to the building he can see from the branches of the tree he's hiding in, where he can sense there's a person with the greatest _potential_ he's felt since coming to this world.

 _Warm_ , he thinks, wishing to see and maybe meet this person.

There are people inside too, he notes absently. Not that he cares much. He may admit needing to get used to be around people and learning about this time is something he honestly wishes to do, but… their weird sort of magical cores still creeps him out.

(He's may be turning more into a phoenix than he's thought if he's this snobbish)

Looking to the window where he knows that mysterious person is, Harry wonders about his options.

 _Maybe he can hit two birds with a stone?_

-XI

The-man-turned-phoenix-who-stalks can be his new hyphened title. It has a nice ring to it, he admits. Fitting too, seeing as he's been visiting daily the spatial station at different hours just to see the owner of that larger-than-normal core. He's even stayed an entire day on a branch after helping bird-Marcus hunt, manning the cold winter, glaring at the window where this person doesn't seem to move from. As if by the force of his stare they would go out.

Unsurprisingly, it doesn't work but Harry Potter is nothing if stubborn.

That's why he comes and goes, exchanging between looking for the Chinese pair, watching the large building and meeting bird-Marcus neighbors, singing when the cold is harsher to lift their moods and warm their souls. He actually becomes quite familiar with most of the birds in the area and some other animals. They can't understand his actions as they're driven by their instincts and can't really reason, but that doesn't mean they can't _understand_. Simple commands or suggestions they can follow when he thought-talks to them.

They can offer the same and more, too. Animals are really intelligent and fun to spend time with even if they can't talk back.

Still. Entertained or not, after two weeks he's frustrated. He knows people are allowed to leave. There's a city near where most workers seem to go to sleep or to simply have fun. Alas, mystery person doesn't seem to be interested in following normal human needs.

(The Chinese pair are even in a boat now!)

Actually, Harry is kind of worried. He doesn't know much of the time he's in but maybe it's more awful than he's thought and this person is not allowed to leave or… or is being experimented on because of this power.

Bloody hell, it would just be his luck if that's the case.

He looks from side to side, fidgeting. He tries to think of a plan that will led him inside but comes with little aside from the overly used barge in and make it up as it goes. It's simple and it has worked before but the phoenix inside him that is elegant and has a penchant for dramatics cringes at just the thought. So that's a no.

After stalking this place for so long he more or less has an idea of how the security works and when it rotates, so he only needs to learn more about the security cameras and the kind. He can't just apparate to the window's edge as the flames after a phoenix apparition are too showy, but he can probably reach the roof from the sky with none being the wiser.

The problem is reaching the window without being seen. His feathers may be black and is easier to blend in with the shadows because of it but he's still a large bird with a constant burning tail. He can reduce the flames, true, but it's still visible.

Maybe he can get a distraction. Something flamboyant enough to catch the attraction of everyone and let him slip inside.

… He may have an idea.

-XII

The sky is starting to become darker when a sickening thud is heard, one that reminds everyone of broken bones and one can't help but compare to the sound one would expect a person do at being crashed by a truck. People as the morbid curious beings they are, move closer to the windows or go outside to see what's happening and find the body of a dead brown bear outside.

Murmurs are already starting when two bearded vultures swoop down and snatch it up. People continue watching as they fly higher, some with frown on their faces as they recognize the bird of prey and to their knowledge, they hunt alone and away from the public. Those people search for cameras to record this anomaly, while the ones who have never known about this winged creature, merely look transfixed as they let go of the body so it can plummet on the ground again.

While this happens, on the opposite side of the building a different type of bird is using the edge of the top floor to peek the window below to get a better view of the inside of the room. There are tables filled with papers and some weird machines, the floor has piles of books and more instruments. It's fairly large even if there's almost not free space left. Not that he pays much attention as he's more concentrated in the person looking to the door where the noise is coming from.

 _That can't be his natural hair colour,_ is first thought, followed by, _Is he going to check what all the commotion is about?_

The second thought is the one that makes him anxious. It'd be just his bloody luck to reach the person he's interested in meeting just to see him leave.

So in Griffindor fashion, Harry knocks the window's glass with his beak, quite amused at the way the young man startles when he turns around, revealing green eyes behind familiar round glasses.

The young man mumbles something in a language he doesn't recognize. Instead of trying to use thought-talk when he might not know English, Harry uses something similar and nudges the impressions of his thoughts onto the young man until the other can understand he's asking if he can go inside.

This would scare a normal person, but it seems the other is more curious than afraid. He quickly empties a space on his table until it's clear of papers and goes to open the window.

Not that it's needed as Harry apparates next on the now free chair, startling even more the young man until he's hissing more strange words at him. Which, rude. Harry's taking his lack of warm clothes into consideration and doesn't want him to get sick for opening the window when it's freezing cold outside. He should receive a thank you and not cursing.

… Though he admits a bird appearing in a burst of flames inside a room filled with papers is not a great idea.

Maybe he should have still warned him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

-XIII

The methods of communication used by phoenix are similar to legimency, but not. While an expert legimens can read one's thoughts and memories by going through their mental barriers and causing them mental stress in the process, a phoenix can only hear the thoughts of others when there's a physical contact and they're the ones who broadcast to them to him. Phoenixes can also communicate with others by broadcasting their own thoughts but as they're not humans, they don't talk. Instead, they give ideas, impressions, memories—abstract concepts.

Harry can talk because it doesn't matter how long he stays in the form of a phoenix, he'll always be a human and think like one. That being said, he can only use English and French, both languages he knows, so maybe he's lucky he's mastered how to communicate like a phoenix and now can easily project his thoughts.

Using that, he shows the young man how everyone has a feeling to them and his is the strongest he's felt so far. He makes his curiosity known and the memory of himself waiting to see him but that never happening. He tries to convey his worry by picturing cells and human experiments. He finally mentions his plan if only to see his face at his memory of two big birds throwing a dead bear from high in the Sky.

At some point, the young man Harry starts calling Doc because of the lab coat, grabs a notebook and starts writing, but it's clear his attention never leaves Harry so he isn't annoyed. Then he presumably answers but Russian isn't a language he knows. At least he realizes this quickly without Harry having to point it out, but it still doesn't help.

He may have to use the other option and connect their thoughts by touch. He usually would be opposed because he doesn't know him. But now that he's finally meet him, Harry is curious about how his sort of magical core feels up close as he can't get anything aside its electrifying flavor from this distance.

Harry gives him a mental image of him touching his wing and wearing a 'Eureka!' face while Harry radiates smugness as they mentally talk. Doc gives him a weird look but complies and—whoa. He's really warm. It's as if he has a fire inside him, too. A green one, like his hair. It tingles pleasantly on his skin and Harry can feel his own flames reacting. His tail actually shines a bit brighter.

Before the Doc can panic, Harry shakes his head and concentrates in the other's surface thoughts. Or tries to. It's just his luck Doc's thoughts are so fast he can't get a miserable grasp on them.

It reminds him of Hermione's thinking process. Just worse. Much, much worse.

Bloody geniuses.

Oh, what the hell.

 _'Can you speak English?'_ he thinks, followed by, _'Tu sais parler le francais?'_

He receives a startled expression that doesn't quite erase his amused, knowing look. "I can speak English."

Bloody figures.

Chapter

-XIV

Of course someone knocks the door before they can say anything else.

Doc and Harry exchanges glances before they turn as one to the door where a male voice is speaking some gibberish he doesn't understand. His companion answers with a bored tone and a roll of his eyes, but that doesn't dissuade the person behind the door. If anything he gets more insistent and… eager?

 _'A friend of yours?'_

The Doc hums as he continues listening. "Just a constant colleague," he murmurs. "He wants me to go and see your winged friends. Get my opinion as I may have studied zoology."

 _'Have you?'_

"In passing." He looks at him. "I admit I'm curious. I may not be into ornithology, but even I know strange behavior when I hear of one. Two birds of prey on a human-infested space? Not normal."

 _'I know. That's why I used it,'_ Harry says, preening slightly and giving him a phoenix-worthy look. The Doc is not really impressed, which is a nice change from the awe he often receives. He can see the Doc is more curious than awed, seemingly liking the possibilities a being like him bring. He wants to study him, Harry can feel it, but the natural respect he makes others feel for him seems to work on the Doc, too. So he's safe.

Well, not exactly safe as the intensity of his curiosity is on a level he hasn't encountered before. It intimidates him slightly, but after some many years of being a friend of Hermione it also fills him with nostalgia.

He shakes his head and huffs. _'I should tell them to stop throwing the bear before they completely ruin the body just for helping me. It's still winter and they need to eat.'_

"Are you going to leave, then?" the Doc asks, his grip tightening slightly on one of his feathers. It doesn't annoy him as it would. He can get the idea of what the other must be feeling as he experienced something similar when he met Fawkes.

On the other hand, Harry likes those green feathers.

The Doc releases his tail when he catches Harry's pointed look. Though perhaps he isn't expecting him to use the same long feather to touch his cheek and keep enjoying the buzzing sensation he can feel prickling under Doc's skin.

By the way Doc half closes his eyes and leans onto his touch, Harry wonders what the other feels. Is his magical core? The same power they both have? He doesn't know.

Actually, Harry doesn't know a lot of things about this world. It's time that started to change. He doesn't want to be caught flat-footed once again for his lack of knowledge, after all.

He locks eyes with the Doc and says, _'I wish to return. I still don't know if you're okay, do I?'_

The curious intensity is back. "Of course. I've so many questions myself, too."

 _'Just don't be so greedy, Doc.'_

With a parting soft croon that makes the other stagger, Harry leaves in a burst of flames.

-XV

Dmitr, or Zeleny as he's called in here, is a german young man with a weird luck, whose genius what's quickly recognized thanks to her mother being the assistant of a university professor. She was born in Russia or in what now call URSS and because of that they lived in the 'correct' side of Germany. With the so-called Space Race going on, he quickly grew interested in space, especially after the news of something called Sputnik. Three years after starting learning about it, at nineteen, he created a basic blueprint of a ship capable to send a man to space and it was thanks to it that he was snatched to the URSS to make his design a reality.

Unfortunately for the URSS, Dmitr gets bored quickly. He needs constant new projects and there is so much to learn about engineering that isn't aerospace technology. The places in where he works luckily is full of people with different specialties so there's always various materials to study. No one bothered him because whatever interest he had that month ended with a new discovery or numerous of valuable inputs.

Sadly, for all their differences those specialties were still associated one with another and there would be a day when he finished learning all he could.

On 1962, a year after the URSS send a man to orbit, that day came. The people on charge noticed too late that Dmitr has a rather unique way to view the world in which honestly doesn't care about much unless he has something interesting to study and is entertained enough with it.

No that it would help them, he's already bored with the URSS style and no amount of books can appease him. He wants to leave and everyone can see that.

It doesn't mean they will leave him, though. He has many of their secrets and besides, someone with his brilliance in the hands of others? Yeah, no. They still have hopes to make him interested again but it's obvious if he keeps not helping them win this Space Race, they'll have to bring the big guns.

It's the end of 1963 and the URSS space program is already getting frustrated with him and his new interest in anatomy.

 _'You're kind of fucked, then.'_

That startles a snort of Dmitr who's now using some kind of microscope to look at his burning tail.

"I am not. They may keep the obvious volatile toxins away from me, but there are many others that one can easily get their hands on and are highly explosive."

Harry looks steadily at him. _'You plan to explode the place?'_

"Of course not, I'd only use it as a distraction to get everyone away from me." He uses the table as a leverage and pushes the chair he's sitting on to the opposite side of the room where a small fridge is. He pulls out what looks like a bottle of soda. "In here, there's a solution that can easily knock an adult man unconscious for a couple hours."

 _'You're going to drug them?'_

"I _do_ need time to collect my things and get at safe distance away."

 _'Right,'_ Harry says, carefully not looking at the disorder around them. _'And you can't kill anyone as that would get the URSS on your back, right?'_

That statement surprises the Doc, which is nice as it lets Harry know that for all his apparent indifference, there are things he'll not consider doing. If he had lips, he'd be smiling in relief. As he has none, he settles by brushing one of his long feathers to the piece of skin closest to him, which is his hand.

-XVI

A phoenix was more than often used as the face of Light magic because their regal beauty and amazing ability to read one's character, but the harsh truth he came to realize was that a phoenix doesn't really care about wizard's designations or their laws. Intelligent beings they may be, but they still are magical creatures driven by their instincts, only tempered by age and experience. They don't know or care about morality though they do know one's intention with only a look.

He admitted sheepishly to Hermione that the righteousness he was expecting to feel never came. He told her and his curious friends how it really took him by surprise the first time he flew above Knockturn Alley and realized his phoenix's brain was indifferent of the dark magic below. He knew it was dark, but the evil taint he expected to feel wasn't there and while he knew ugly things were happening, things he could hear—he did nothing. The indifference was great, making him alien.

They're still pure beings, like unicorns, but what damages them is not the dark magic as he thought but the intention behind. Magic itself wasn't good or bad, it simple was, he realized. A simple notion yet one he wouldn't have thought of for many years without being able to turn into a phoenix.

A wise creature, they called them, but maybe everything was only matter of perspective. Not that it really mattered. Peace for him only lasted three months. The word went out, the newspapers were buzzing with the news. He was no longer Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, The-Man-Who-Conquered. He now was Harry Potter, the man whose animagus form was a phoenix.

And that was the only thing they cared about.

 _At least they haven't hyphenated this into a long title_ , was his first thought, the newspaper of that day still on his hands as he saw numbly the photo of a phoenix going to an alley only for it to turn into himself. Then the dread set in.

 _I'm fucked_ , was his second thought.

And how right he was.


	5. Chapter 5

Welp. It's been so long since I've updated this and I want to say I'm so sorry. My muse was diverted to other stories at the time and well... yeah

For those wanting to read the next chapter of Bandaged Hand, I'm afraid to say I'm just starting to write it as my computer died a couple of months back and I can't write long stories in my phone. So probably in a couple of weeks, I'll update now that I bought a shiny new computer. Yeeees.

Please leave some comments! They always motivate me!

* * *

 **XVII**

' _Where are you planning to go?'_

"Most likely the USA. They understand my importance. My knowledge will ensure my safety. They will also keep me away from their Space program if only to retain their secrets."

' _The enemies of my enemies and all that?_ '

Dmitr shrugs in a 'what can I do' kind of way. Not resigned exactly, but in the way one does when tries to make the best of a shitty situation, which Harry understands all too well. It's then he really looks at Dmitr. At his young face contrasting with his too intelligent eyes. The light stubble on his jaw and the bags under his eyes speak of how tired he is, but there's an eagerness in him that let's one know he won't get rest until his curiosity is sated.

And this time his curiosity is focused on him.

"Breathe in and hold it as long as you can. Then breathe out," he says, the – still in his hands. "Don't speak."

 _"I talk to you with my thoughts_."

An exasperated huff. "Yes, yes, and that's amazing, but some silence will be appreciated."

Harry does as he's been told and for a long while it's silent, the only rumor coming from the machines that surround them. When he finally breaths out and Dmitr shifts his attention to the notebook he's writing on, Harry speaks the question that's been on his mind for a while now.

' _Why are you still here then if you have all planned out?'_

Dmitr throws him a look that clearly questions his intelligence before blinking as if he's briefly forgotten he's talking with a bird.

"Well, we humans can't just do what I'm planning to and be free of repercussions. I needed to get some papers done first so I can be without the constant worry of having to look behind my back."

Harry very pointedly doesn't mention he isn't exactly a bird and understands more about humans, he thinks. It'll make him look dumber and for some reason, he cares about his opinion of him.

It's weird as he's cared little for the opinion of other's ever since he decided to live as a phoenix instead of human. He doesn't know if it's good either.

He looks at Dmitr, this time focusing not on his age or his tiredness but his facial features in general. How he holds himself, confident even while sitting. It's attractive, but is that what this is? A crush? He can't think is a sexual attraction as he's never felt that when being a bird.

Perhaps he should search for more company, to clear his head and all that.

"What if I take you to where you want to go?"

 **XVIII**

Phoenix-travel is a bit complicated. He can travel to wherever he pictures like apparition, true, but it's more difficult than it would be if he has a living being as an anchor he can focus on. Also, he's never tried it. Whenever he took a friend with him, he always used another person as his focus. And while he can easily use the animals he has become friends with, the places they live are not human-friendly.

And that's the matter, Dimtr wants some proof of his transporting abilities before he accepts and the only place he currently knows he can go is with bird-Marcus, the acromantulas and the Chinese couple.

It's not hard to decide with those limited options as his only choices.

When he closes his eyes to check where they are, he finds them in a surprisingly busy place, so he makes sure to apparate in a spot where there are no people near.

They appear on a small hill, surrounded by trees. The weather is a little cold, but nothing like Russia climate. So it's good he didn't make Dimtr use the heavy coat and just one thick enough to protect from the cold.

"Where are we?" Dimtr asks after he stumbles and almost falls.

' _China_.'

Dimtr moves forward, away from the trees and where he can sense a group of people. He doesn't protest when Harry settles on his shoulders, merely grunting in surprise at the weight. Not that he can't protest, not when their gazes settle on the view in front of them.

There's a fight going on, a fight between one familiar man and a big group of people. The surprising part is the flames surrounding their bodies as they fight. The familiar flames he's becoming to associate with the mysterious power people have. The one he has, too.

He tears his gaze away when he hears the sound of a motor going on. Inspecting his surroundings, he is a bit startled to see what seems to be a small airport. Only a couple of planes on sight. All with enough space to fit five people inside.

There's only one functioning at the moment. And there's the woman he saved days ago with half of her body outside of the door of the plane, yelling something to the other man.

The man he's familiar with answers back as he keeps the group away from her and the plane, and going by the anguished expression on the woman's face, it's not what she wanted to hear. She cries as she nods and goes back inside.

The man keeps fighting, but when the plane is going away, it's like the fight has suddenly left him. He's smiling serenely as fights. The flames he never once pay attention in and thought lifeless, grow in intensity and the calm they always had, becomes a torrent of energy so powerful it blinds him.

It's a suicidal move, he realizes as he sees him not bothering to dodge anymore as he concentrates in his power, steadily increasing. The others in the group seem to sense it too, as they become restless and more aggressive in their pursuit to finish him off.

Harry, damn his bleeding heart, can't let it be over like this. Not when he spent days looking out for them.

He apparates just when he sees a man using the same electric power Dimtr has, shooting a bolt of green lightning at the man's torso.

 **XIX**

Fawkes had his burning day every three years, according to the headmaster when he once asked him. He said it grew less common when the Phoenix grew old, so the first thing Harry asked himself after realizing what his animagus form was, was: will I have a burning day, too?

Years have passed but his burning day never came and soon he forgot about it. However, now, as the green light, so similar to the killing curse, shots him in the chest, he can feel it.

He burns brighter and something inside of him wants to let it all go and be reborn anew, but he grabs it and stops it from consuming him. It hurts but he ignores it.

The people around him stop to stare and he uses this time to sing. He sings a song, one of peace and understanding. One that he pours all his heart on, all his pain and experiences in battle and the tiredness he felt after killing and how empty it left him.

He wants them to understand, wants them to stop.

And thankfully they do.

One by one, the awed group kneels. He doesn't know what the man he just saved does, as he's behind him, but he doesn't care at the moment. Not when he has more to sing.

He says sorry, sorry to the man he brought here because he doesn't think he's going to be able to take him back, not at the moment at least.

With one last croon, one that speaks of uncertainty for what will happen next, he burns.

A large orange fire covers his form, engulfing all his being until he feels it in his veins. It's his fire, the fire of his soul it sings without him, a beautiful song of harmony.

It lasts a couple of seconds and then it's over. In the place of the majestic bird of legends, there's a man standing with dark hair and green eyes covered by a pair of glasses. He's wearing a black long coat on top of a white dress shirt, with black pants, the same color of his shoes.

He coughs and a small fire scales his mouth.

"Well, that happened," he muses to himself as he clenches his fist, first time in so long feeling his fingers.

There's anxiety inside of him at being surrounded by so many but he doesn't let it show.

He takes a step forward, towards the surprised kneeling people ready to give him a piece of his mind, and promptly stumbles and falls face first.

"Right. Forgot how to walk," he murmurs onto the floor.

As always, he sucks at making first impressions. Go him!

 **XX**

Harry has developed something of routine whenever he doesn't have anything to do. Which happens more often than not now that his animagus form is out and all know about it. So, he usually wakes up at seven, goes down the stairs of the Grimmauld house ready to eat breakfast made by Kreacher, and then go to grab some book from the library to learn something new to make interesting this monotone life he finds himself in.

Or at least that's what's supposed to happen today.

"What are you doing here?" he asks from where he's standing, wearing his pajamas.

Malfoy, the well-dressed bastard, just smirks.

"Is this how il great Harry Potter spends his days?"

"Is morning, Malfoy. Normal people just wake up."

"Well, I hope you enjoyed it while it lasted. From now on you will wake up at five."

What.

"What?"

"Oh, Harry! Here you are!"

Harry turns around with just enough time to lift his arms and hug his friend. "Hermione!" he laughs as he takes a step back. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I heard about you've to go with Kingsley to meet some very important people and-"

"And she thought I would help."

He turns towards Malfoy. "Help? It's just a dinner, what-?"

"Exactly. Dinner with the ministers of other countries. You need to learn how to act, how to talk, how to _eat_."

"I know how to eat!" He turns to Hermione. "Right, 'mione?"

"Oh, Harry. I'm sorry but Draco is right. You're going to represent England here and with how the political climate is going on at the moment we need all the help."

"You can claim to be the most powerful wizard of our generation but if you act like a simpleton, then you'll ruin the little Goodwill we have with the other countries."

"Yeah, and whose father's fault is that?" he says he regrets it though. Malfoy's gaze grows cold and Hermione's disappointing turn of lips. He sighs. "I'm sorry. It's been a couple of stressful days."

"I heard," Malfoy says quietly. And he's grateful that he doesn't add a comment about his phoenix form. So damned grateful.

"Well, I'll be going then."

Harry blinks at Hermione. "Already? You just came."

"Well, you know how busy my days are nowadays," she says, hand briefly touching her stomach where new life is growing.

It's been two years now since Voldemort's death and everyone is moving on, quicker than before. He's been hailed as the next coming of Merlin and Harry is trying so hard to be what the people needed of him, studying and improving himself.

The spotlight was dying and the people could at least talk to him properly more or less. The newspapers no longer hunted him down and everything was starting to look up.

However, he had to be seen while changing forms. Now the hype is worse than before and hates it. But he can't ignore it, not when he's starting to make changes and England is moving forward towards equality.

That's why he accepted when Kingsley asked him to accompany him.

He shakes his head and sighs, returning to the moment. "I understand, Hermione," he says, grateful that the bitterness he feels doesn't come out in his voice.

It's been a month since the last he has seen her. Three months since he saw Ron.

They're distancing, not on purpose, of course, but it still hurts. So he says goodbye to Hermione with a smile and his face before turning to Malfoy, ready to start his torture.

x.x

* * *

 **A.N**.

So, what do you think? Btw, do you want me to change this story from Friendship to Romance? The romance would be arco/Harry.


	6. Chapter 6

**XXI**

The people are surprisingly understanding afterward. They stop attacking the man, seemingly forgetting about whatever trouble he caused. Instead, focusing on him with an intensity that almost makes him falter as they treat him a bit too reverently for his liking. Well, at least they're not fighting anymore.

The man he saved is understandably wary of the others, but he's also the first person that helped him stand up and walk on his own. So that's a plus to him, unlike the others who seem afraid to touch him.

He's not sure if introducing Dimtr is the best way to go but when it's obvious they're leaving to some place and taking him away with them, he has to. After all, he can't leave him in a place he doesn't know when he's not sure he even knows the language.

Besides, it's not like he can't stupify them if he wants to. His magic is at his beck and call even without his wand, probably an aftereffect of having a magical creature as his animagus form as instead of having a core like he used to, magic floods his veins.

So, he motions Dimtr to come forward with a hand gesture. The others stop to stare at him before glancing at the direction he's pointing at, where Dimtr is now appearing warily.

"Do you know Chinese?" he asks as soon as he's at arm length.

After a long moment of staring at him, with those intense eyes of his, he nods, "Enough." Then he proceeds to introduce himself to the others, who all look appraisingly at him in a way one does a possible threat.

Do they sense his power, too?

Dimtr then turns to him. "They want to know your name."

"Harry," he answers back without thinking. Dimtr arches an eyebrow at him, unimpressed as if to say 'really?'

Harry flushes, something he doesn't miss to be able to do again but nods with a pout.

 _Oh, expressions_ , he thinks as he subtly touches his face, taking a moment to marvel at the smoothness and flexibility of his skin. That, that he has missed.

They again exchange words without him understanding a word, so he turns to the man he's saved who is still near him. The man looks at him immediately, his brown eyes almost as intent as Dimtr's.

Harry points at himself. "Harry," he says before pointing at the man with a tilt of his head.

"I understand English," the man answers in a slow way that shows how not used to it he is.

Oh, well. What a way to make him feel dumb. He flushes even brighter.

"My name's Harry, then, smart guy. What's yours?"

"Fon." He then bows his head in apology. "I understand English, but I don't speak it well."

"Oh. The others understand English, too, then?"

Fon nods. And damn, but he wanted to ask him about his situation.

"Where are we going?" he asks after a while when the people stop talking with Dimtr.

A weight seems to have settled in his shoulders as he says, "The temple."

"Not a happy place, um?"

Fon snorts before smiling bitterly, but he doesn't answer.

Leaning towards him, he whispered, "That why you tried to escape?"

Fon's eyes snap at him.

"At least she's safe, right?" he continues, brushing his arm against Fon's.

Fon smiles a real smile, one that meets his eyes and makes him look younger.

"Yes," he says, as if everything is okay.

Then the indigo portal appears and the people start going inside as if a portal appearing from thin air is normal.

Well, let's be honest here, he's seen weirder.

 **XXII**

"Its quite amazing what these people can do with Flames," Dimtr says, not quite gushing, but something really close to it. It seems he's forgotten he's supposed to be in another country at this time. Or that the phoenix he met is now a human. It's strange how none have inquired as of yet about that.

"You have them, too, you know?"

Sharp eyes focus on him. "I do?"

"Yeah, that's why I went to search for you, actually. You never went out, so I thought they were experimenting on you."

"Oh." He gives him another glance. "What type do I have?"

"I don't actually know a lot about this," he starts. "I only know that everyone has it and that yours is green, with an electric flavor to it."

"Lightning," Fon explains. "Their property is hardening."

Dimtr hums as he thinks and Harry takes the time to look at his surroundings. He is inside an old Chinese temple, waiting for he doesn't know what. The floor is made of softwood and they're sitting on it only a cushion to soften their seat.

They have got a great view outside thanks to the open doors, but Harry knows it's mostly to keep a better eye on them as he can see a couple of people walking outside. He ignores it in order to watch Fon, who is sitting the closest to the door. They tried to separate them but Harry didn't let them. When one tried to protest, Harry pointed at him, sending a wandless stupefy that knocked him unconscious.

Now, he's with his eyes closed, meditating. Harry already healed him as much as he can with the limited knowledge he has on healing magic but…

With a sigh, he takes out the small pouch he has around his neck in a necklace and shoves his entire arm inside it. Dimtr makes a surprised sound, which alerts Fon, as he opens his eyes.

Harry takes out his shrunk trunk before tapping at it, making it go at its correct size. He opens it and starts searching for the right compartment where the magical first aid is. It takes him a few tries as it's been a while since he's opened it.

"Aha!" he says when he finds it. There are a great number of options in stasis but the one he wants is the one with the transparent liquid—his animagus form's tears. He also makes sure to take out the candy that will help learn the language. Not that he has the time for that, but he will be using an earbud that immediately translates everything. It will make his head hurt and it will only last seven hours, but something tells him this conversation is going to be important enough to use one of the four he has brought with him.

He turns to Fon, who's is watching him with a curious expression in his face. "What is that?"

"My other form's tears. They can heal all type of wounds."

Dimtr looks at him. "All types? How?"

"Magic."

"Magic doesn't exist," he says but there's a tone of uncertainty in it.

Harry grins. "Of course it does. I'm magical myself."

"That's why you can transform in a _fenghuang_?"

"A phoenix, you mean? Yeah, that's why."

Dimtr hums. "By the way, you speak and the things you carry, I can speculate that you're not the only one. Unless you're older than you look, of course."

"I'm twenty-seven."

Another him, this time is from Fon though. "Are more like you?"

It takes a moment for him to understand his English, but when he does all his nervous cheer vanishes. "I don't know. I'm probably the only wizard of this world."

"Then that means you're not from this world, aren't you?"

Harry nods mutely at Dimtr and it feels that a weight has been dropped off him. He doesn't know why but his phoenix form's instincts trusted these men and he does too. After all, his phoenix instincts are more accurate than his normal one.

"All magical people can turn into a phoenix?"

"No, they don't. It's almost unheard of to have a magical being as a second form."

"You're special, then."

Harry grimaces at the word special, but nods nonetheless. Fortunately for him, Dimtr doesn't pry.

"I'm sorry, you know. This was only supposed to be a short trip, but it turned into something longer and dangerous. Your colleagues are probably wondering where are you and that will only set back your plans and—"

Dimtr stops him by holding up a hand. "It's alright. This is the most interesting situation I've found myself in. Flames powers and magic being real? I want to know more."

Fon says something in Chinese he doesn't understand but soon Dimtr is humming as he scratches his chin.

"Here or Italy you say? What would you recommend me the less dangerous?" he says in English, probably not wanting to leave him off the conversation."

Probably realizing his plan, Fon answers in the same language. "Italy. Triads do not accept outsiders."

Verde seems keen to ask more but before he can, Harry interrupts. "Knowing more is always great, but I want to know more about the situation we find ourselves in," he says, placing the earbud in place. "And you can talk in Chinese. This will help me understand you."

 **XIII**

Fon is someone who comes from a long line of strong martial artists, hailed as one of the best families in the Triads. Though is not until he's seven that people start to realize he's more than a simply powerful budding martial artist (if there's anything simple about it), as he takes to learn new forms and techniques like a duck in the water.

Soon, he's being hailed as a prodigy. And in a couple of years, he's considered the best in China, which starts to worry the Triads.

It's not until he's turned twenty-five and is in the road of being known as the best of Asia, that the Triads use whatever leverage they can find to secure him in their group: his half-sister, Mai.

And while Mai is also an incredible fighter specialized in stealth and very sought for, she's still expendable enough to retain her in the hidden village where they keep the liabilities of their strongest members. Usually, one volunteers their most precious person to said village with the condition they can visit them. Is actually where Fon grew up with his sister as they were the liability of their mother.

However, they knew Fon wouldn't accept that kind of life for his sister; she is a reversed Cloud, after all. Without her freedom, she'll slowly become a shell of herself. And while she'll be safe… her happiness is another matter altogether.

So they escaped.

 _"Did you even have a place where you could hide_?" Harry asks after Fon has given them the basic rundown of Flames. Dimtr is silent beside him, though only thanks to the promise of a lengthy explanation of Flames, later.

Fon glances at the door, before looking at him with a determined expression. Apparently, the fact that they're communicating via thought is enough to relax the man. He's a decent legimens thanks to his animagus form and now he only needs to touch a person to hear their thoughts. So, before the serious talk started, Harry asked Fon and Dimtr to hold hands with him as to connect their thoughts in a better way and it has worked expediently so far. It seems to be in his human body has made it work better as he can now communicate with Fon and Dimtr at the same time.

It'll still give him a headache later, though.

With a small exhale of breath, Fon lifts his head higher. "My father is a powerful man in Japan. I made a deal to him for the protection of my sister."

Harry blinks. "Huh. So your father's not part of the Triads, then?"

"No. The family I come from is known to produce genius children because they select the donators of the sperm very carefully. Though I say donators when it's mostly a seduction mission they give some of the women in our family when they're ready to carry a baby." He grimaced as he thought the next words, "It's seen as an honor to carry the next generation."

Without thinking much, Harry places a hand on Fon's shoulder before giving it a reassuring squeeze. He lets go with a tired sigh.

"You said before that you made a deal with your father to protect your sister, right?" Receiving a nod, he continues, "You never planned to go with her. You knew from the start you would return to face the punishment… Right?"

The silence he receives is answer enough.

"I'll help you," he says, mostly without thinking. Not that he needs to. He feels a connection with this man, similar to the one he feels with Dimtr, and he wants to discover what it is. "You will be able to enjoy your life however you want. I will make sure of it."

Before he can hear an answer to his promise, the doors that lead to the inside the house open.

 **XXIV**

Harry threw the earbud with the _lingua-ere_ that was in his hand with all the force he could muster against the green flames he had just came out of.

"Those bloody pricks, the whole lot of them!" he took a deep breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "What am I? A stupid circus animal?!"

"Please, do continue with you whining. It's oh so entertaining."

Turning around, Harry finds Malfoy sitting on his couch, a glass of fire whiskey between his fingers. The sight of his raised eyebrow calmed him somewhat, as it was Malfoy who asked him _(asked!)_ if he could remain in his house so they could critique the diplomats Harry was going to meet with when he returned.

"Malfoy," he nodded.

Malfoy rolled his eyes but greeted him with a 'Potter'. "So what did happen? I take they were worse than we thought?"

And just like that, his rage ignited. "Bloody idiots all of them. I think they just invited me to be their party's mascot. They wanted me to show them all my Phoenix form; the only thing they asked me about the whole time."

"They're politicians, what did you think was going to happen? You're probably the most interesting thing that happened in their boring lives."

"Yeah, well, I'm not a bloody attraction." He huffed. "I gave them everything and still they won't treat me like a person."

"That's the problem, Potter. You gave them everything. Don't come whining now that they ask for more."

I shook his head. "I—I didn't want it to be like this. I just wanted to help."

"Didn't work well for you, did it?"

Harry huffed, and his voice was somber when he said, "Yeah."

He thought in all he did these last years and how they were weighing him down. What did he gain from giving his all to the public? He didn't have a significant other to share his pain, his friends were all busy rebuilding their lives and some couldn't even look at him for all the memories he brought. He was getting cozy with Malfoy of all people. And while it's true he's no longer a dick, they still were frenemies or that word Hermione gave for the two of them.

He just wished to… start anew or something. To go somewhere where no one knew him, where he could fly and let himself be, find people who loved him unconditionally and that he loved back with the same fervor. He wanted more.

" ** _Do you want more_**?" a voice said from behind him. He turned around, startled, wand already between his fingers.

There was a chair covered by shadows in the far corner of his study. It was impossible to see the figure hidden in it, but he could feel how cold the air around it was, how it turned his fingers blue.

"Who are you," he demanded even as he noted the statue-like figure of Malfoy, sitting in the same spot he was, immobile.

" ** _Do you ask for my name when it already sings to you?_ "**

"What?"

" ** _Hear, little wizard. What do your instincts tell you_**?"

Harry inhaled slowly, his hand never wavering, ready to at least a lumos in case it was needed, but he didn't. Not when the wand in his hand was vibrating so hard and the mark tattooed in the nape of his neck hurt so much.

It wasn't hard to conclude with all the clues shouting at him.

"Death?"

XXXXX

A/N: Who am I and what am I doing with the author, you say? Well, nope, don't worry. It's me! I'm just updating because I had the chapter ready so why not. That being said, I decided to make the story gen with only a couple of hints of shipping. Probably will do a couple of omakes with the romance part.

Though I admit that if the story builds in a way were romance is unavoidable then I will have to choose which pairing. But Colonello and Lal will remain together, no probs.


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